


but baby it's cold outside

by pineapplefork



Series: TMA Winter Shenanigans [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, Multi, POV Multiple, Pre-Slash, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Snowball Fight, boring but normal, first snow!!!, ish, martin's crushing on jon and jon realises that martin exists in this fic, marto and tim are a lil sad during winter but that's ok, the institute is mostly a normal workplace, they bully each other and elias bullies himself, tim and sasha are cute but not a couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineapplefork/pseuds/pineapplefork
Summary: Tim doesn’t celebrate Christmas. Never has, doesn’t understand the cheer and panic and spirit of it all. And even if he sometimes wonders if there is something wrongwith him for just notgetting it, he feels even less guilty about it when he realises there is nobody he would want to spend it with.Snow, though?Snow-induced cheer is something he can get behind.***In which the S1 crew gets to have some snowy fun, as a treat.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: TMA Winter Shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033800
Comments: 16
Kudos: 106





	but baby it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

> It snowed for the first time this year in my city and I woke up!!! So excited!!!! I just couldn't wait to write, so here it is lol  
> This is set at the beginning of a December after Jon became Head Archivist, except nothing bad ever happens. At all. It's just workplace shenanigans.  
> Hope you enjoy!!!<3

Tim doesn’t celebrate Christmas. Never has, doesn’t understand the cheer and panic and spirit of it all. And even if he sometimes wonders if there is something wrong with him for just not _getting it_ , he feels even less guilty about it when he realises there is nobody he would want to spend it with.

(Does he get annoyed with Sasha when she starts playing Christmas music as soon as Halloween ends? No, of course not. He’s basically in love with the woman. He could never.)

(Even if the playlist is boring and repetitive and he can hear every distorted high note through Sasha’s cheap earbuds. It grates on his nerves, but it’s  _ Sasha _ . Come on.)

When December rolls around and he comes to work one day to see the whole place decorated, not for  _ Christmas _ specifically, but in the ‘ _ holiday cheer, hurray’ _ spirit, it’s… A little jarring, to be frank. The weather is cold and gloomy and it’s raining outside, but within the Institute Christmas music is playing and there’s been a surplus of cinnamon tea and gingerbread cookies for a while now. Tim has been down in the dumps since the weather’s gone bad and he finds it hard to get excited about anything lately, much less about  _ this. _

Snow, though?

Snow-induced cheer is something he can get behind.

It’s still early into the month when Tim wakes up, rolls around in bed in his usual ritual of utterly dreading going to that prison they call an institute and looks out the window to see white. Like, a lot of it. He nearly springs out of bed, a smile pulling at his cracked lips (he doesn’t even care that he forgot to moisturise) and just… takes it all in, for a moment. Opens the window, welcomes the chilly draft inside his stuffy apartment and nearly trips in his run to get dressed for the day.

When he arrives at work, his beanie is soaked and he hopes the snow didn’t get through to the laptop in his bag, but he’s smiling like an idiot and he knows it. Nobody else is in the office when he arrives, so he has plenty of time to think up a game plan. How does he get his friends outside with him? He leans on his desks and thinks.

Martin always looks sad the weeks before Christmas break, so Tim isn’t quite sure if asking him would make it better or worse.

If Martin doesn’t come, there’s practically no chance that Jon will, either.

So, that leaves…

“Sasha!” Tim hollers, grinning from ear to ear when she enters the office.

She startles but doesn’t drop the cup she’s holding. “Morning. What’s got you so excited?” Sasha moves to take off her layers, but Tim slithers into her space, takes the coffee from her hand, places it on the desk and holds the lapels of her coat so she can’t take it off.

She raises an eyebrow. “I thought the point was to take my clothes off, not keep them on,” she says, endeared despite her seriousness.

Tim laughs. “All in due time, my fair lady. Did you even look outside today?” He takes one hand off her coat and gestures to the window. Sasha follows with her gaze but doesn’t seem impressed.

“Yes, I did, and I found the reason why my boots never last through the winter.”

He sighs. “You need better boots, Sash. How else are we going to enjoy the snow?” By the end of his sentence, though, Tim is grinning again. He knows his excited grin is contagious and sees it confirmed in the way the corners of Sasha’s lips also twitch up. She looks at him from behind her fogged up glasses with an expectant fondness, like she wants him to know that she thinks he’s ridiculous. He grins even wider. ‘You love me,’ he wants to say, but before he opens his mouth he realises how close they are. Physically, he means. He can see the imprints on her glasses, the freckles on her skin and where she applied her lipstick a little off. It’s lovely.  _ She’s  _ lovely. He tries to say something, anything, but whatever snarky reply Tim had as a backup dies instantly on his lips. Sasha’s eyes follow their movement. Tim’s heart is hammering. 

Then, her expression fills with mischief.

She pulls away from him, zips up her coat and grabs her beanie. Her eyes are sparkling. Tim feels dumbfounded, stuck.

“Come on, Stoker! You said you wanted to enjoy the snow, right?” She’s walking away from him, and it’s only when she pushes open the heavy front door of the building and  _ skips _ outside that he regains his ability to form proper thoughts. He hastily gets his winter clothes on and basically legs it to the main entrance.

When he pops his head from behind the door to look for Sasha, he gets a faceful of snow. He can’t see a thing, but he hears a high-pitched squeak that sounds a lot like Sasha’s laugh. He laughs, too, despite the snow in his mouth.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Sash!”

***

Martin comes back up from Artefact Storage to find the assistants’ office empty. He can see a half-drank coffee cup on Sasha’s desk, Tim’s laptop bag on his chair, but nothing else. The door to Jon’s office is closed and no light comes through its small window.

He sighs. He knows this is probably a one-time occurrence, but it reminds him of the loneliness of his apartment and… it messes with him, a bit. He sits down at his own desk, tries to do some work, finds it more difficult than usual. He debates on asking Jon for help, but the weather is pleasant and a lack of Sasha means a lack of bad Christmas music (his playlist is better if you ask him, but he hums along to Sasha’s whenever he gets the chance anyway) and he really doesn’t want to ruin the peaceful atmosphere by bringing an irritated Jon into all this.

Instead, he gives up on work and takes a tea break.

He remembers that the Earl Grey he prefers has been used up. 

There are only Christmas branded cinnamon teas left.

He looks for the usual digestive biscuits.

Gingerbread men.

Martin isn’t the type to get irritated, not really. He’s much more the type to irritate others, what with his constant hovering and endless strings of apologies. But he’s a simple man, with simple desires and simple pleasures. When he feels sad, he gets better with a cup of his favourite tea and a biscuit. 

The weather is pleasant. Inside the breakroom, it is quiet. There’s no angry boss or admiringly competent Sasha or fun yet incredibly useful for investigations Tim. It’s just Martin, who makes tea. Martin, who can’t even make  _ good _ tea because the brand the staff bought is horrid. Martin, who is alone in an office when he should be working alongside his friends instead. Well, friends is a strong word. Still, colleagues. It’s something. They make this place something other than  _ quiet, empty.  _ He sometimes even laughs — 

Laughter can be heard from somewhere outside the Institute, quite loud. Martin can’t find it in him to look out the window, but he thinks he recognises Sasha and Tim’s voices. As soon as his thoughts drift to something along the lines of  _ I wonder what Jon would make of this _ , he hears the telling tippy-taps of short legs who try to walk fast without actually breaking into a jog. Martin smiles, small and struggling, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

His boss comes into the breakroom, posture tense and usual scowl on his face. He doesn’t stop to greet Martin or pay him any attention, just sticks himself in front of the window and prepares to… yell? Go out there and hold a lecture about snowball fights on company time? He isn’t sure and neither seems Jon. Martin keeps to himself, idly browsing through the tea rack, trying to distract himself from the situation. He already doesn’t feel like himself today, but he can’t bear attempting to talk to Jon and being brushed off again. 

He does his best to curl into himself, become invisible.

***

Jon likes Christmas, but it’s hard when there’s nobody to celebrate with. 

And when he says he likes Christmas, he genuinely means the four days that actually make up the holiday. Not the entire  _ month  _ of December that people treat like a continuous, endless source of cheer. Sasha likes the entire month, however, and she’s his most competent assistant. He can at least begrudgingly hold back his complaints when she’s around and let her play those awful Christmas songs that get her all excited. That’s it, though. It’s the only compromise he’s willing to make.

Which is why, when his concentration is disturbed by a snowball, of all things, hitting his office window, he’s  _ upset.  _ He hears the squeals that probably accompany the realisation of whose window was exactly hit and makes out the voices of his assistants. Jon gets up, opens the window, uses his hand to wipe the snow from the glass and intends to give them a piece of his mind. Except that they’re already running to the opposite side of the building. He groans, gets his overcoat and strides towards the break room. He needs to put an end to this.

So he will! After he pushes open the door he goes straight to the window, ready to— 

Huh. 

Tim and Sasha look really happy.

And by really happy he means genuinely elated, pushing each other in the snow and giggling like children. Jon quickly realises he hasn’t heard them laugh like this in a while. He mentally goes through this month’s events: Sasha’s been keeping to herself, using her earbuds to listen to music even though they can all hear it when they’re in the same room, Tim has been… Tim, if he’s honest, but definitely a little less cheeky than usual. And Martin? Jon can’t honestly say he would have even remembered he works here, were it not for the mug of Earl Grey he’s brought every day and the reports he  _ always _ has to proofread.

Speaking of, Jon moves his attention from Tim and Sasha to the way the break room reflects in the window. His and Martin’s backs are turned to each other, but the faint figure mirrored in the glass is hunched over, quiet ever since he busted into the room. Jon’s brows scrunch up, and he can feel the cogs turning in his brain in that way they do when he can’t pinpoint specific thoughts, but he knows he’s churning out  _ something.  _

…

…

Wait— 

“Martin, do you know what’s going on?” Jon cautiously asks, turning around.

Martin seems startled by his words. Hm.

“Uh— I, I don’t, no. I came up from Storage a while ago and there was no one in the office.” His eyes aren’t meeting Jon’s and he’s stringing his hands together.

Jon stays silent for a while, taking in the image of Martin. Tim and Sasha are still having some sort of battle in the background, judging by the yells and laughter. Why isn’t Martin with them? Sure, he  _ logically _ knows why, the man just explained himself, but there’s something… Off. About the whole thing. They’re a team, aren’t they? Jon was never supposed to be the enemy, Martin never the outcast.  _ Hm.  _

Martin is now looking at him, too. He seems anxious, jittery. Like prey caught in a trap, unsure how to escape the predator.

Jon’s no  _ predator.  _ The mere idea is, to him… 

He speaks before he thinks. “Where’s your coat?”

Martin perks up but is by no means relaxed. “What?”

“Your coat. Do you have one? It’s snowing outside.”

Jon is sure his eyes are communicating better than he can, because Martin gulps, gives a shaky nod and leaves, presumably to get his coat. He’s back quickly, dressed with it.

Jon doesn’t let him linger in the doorway, just takes Martin’s hand and marches outside, hoping he’ll trail behind and not stop to question Jon’s actions.

He doesn’t question them. Martin’s hand is soft and warm in his and Jon struggles not to fixate on that sensation. He’s a man on a mission, damn it. He’s nothing if not determined.

***

Sasha is just recovering from a well-aimed snowball that reached both her mouth and her eyes, ready to curse Tim out and give it back to him ten times worse, when she sees it. 

Jon is essentially dragging Martin out with one hand, pushing the main door — the weight of which even she struggles with — open with the other, brows furrowed in a way she only sees when he’s got a lead on a statement and is not about to give up until he follows it. 

Eyes wide, she grabs Tim and hauls him behind a bush, shushing him with a gloved finger to the mouth. His eyes cross when he tries to focus on it. Tim gently pushes her hand away from his lips, but doesn’t really… let go. Sasha chooses not to dwell on how nice that feels and gestures for him to look where she’s looking. He does and his expression becomes as transfixed as hers. Jon is talking (ranting?) to Martin, still holding his hand, and while Martin seemed truly sad a few moments ago, now he can’t seem to take his eyes away from where their fingers are intertwined. It takes a minute for Jon to realise, and when he looks down he snatches his hand away and shoves it in his coat pocket, stammering out (probably) apologies. They’re both blushing.

Tim and Sasha look at each other. She tries to tell Tim to go around the building and distract them from the back through head and hand gestures only, and while he seems a bit confused, she’s pretty sure he understands. Martin and Jon are talking again, looking around the seemingly empty, quiet courtyard.

Sasha stays put, waiting for Tim’s signal.

It takes a minute, but she finally hears a _thud_ that suspiciously sounds like a snowball thrown against fabric, a ‘ _something something professional something Institute’_ from Jon and Martin’s sweet laugh. She peeks out from around the bush. Jon is trying to wipe snow from his clothes, while Martin and Tim are each holding snowballs and look ready to pounce. Jon seems completely unaware of the staring contest that goes down, struggling to wipe his glasses with the hem of his sweater. Tim’s eyes dart to their boss. Martin’s head tilts a little in his direction. Sasha grins when two snowballs hit Jon just as he looks up to put his glasses back on.

“Tim, you are  _ so  _ fired!” he shouts, though a hint of fondness shows through his exasperation.

“Hey, no fair, Martin—” He cuts himself off with a yelp as Jon starts running after him, snowball in hand. They’re both shouting— well, Tim is. Jon is mostly throwing empty threats.

Martin starts laughing, too, until he looks up and his face falls. Sasha follows his gaze and notices Elias standing in front of his second storey office window, looking disapprovingly down at Martin. He shrinks back down, worse than she’s seen him the entire month. She knows Martin gets sad during the holidays, but he had been smiling _ , laughing  _ even. 

Sasha thinks she understands why Jon wore that determined expression before. Seeing Martin Blackwood upset and doing nothing about it is like ignoring a kicked puppy.

The noise makes Martin look up at Elias’ window first, which has been given the snowball treatment. He turns around, looking for the source. Sasha’s already onto her second snowball and jumps out from behind her hiding place only to chuck it at Martin’s chest.

He looks confused, scared, for a second, and Sasha’s worried she's made it worse until they both look up at the second storey. There stands Elias, utterly disgusted, using his favourite (ugly) handkerchief to wipe the snow from his window. Sasha’s trying not to laugh, still watching her boss’ boss make an ass of himself when another snowball hits her. Martin laughs and so does she when she gets up to run after him. 

They bump into Tim and Jon along the way, which makes them all stop for a second until Tim and Martin look at each other and smirk knowingly. Neither Jon nor Sasha have time to process everything until they’re being chased by Martin and Tim respectively, each pair running in opposite directions.

Their laughter rings high and fills up the emptiness around the building. Somehow, both Martin and Tim manage to trip on their chase. When Tim falls on top of Sasha, he kisses her. When Martin topples and drags Jon with him, he apologises so much and goes so red that Jon has to grab both his hands to stop them from shaking. The way Martin smiles at Jon after that makes his heart flutter, but Jon desperately tries to ignore the blush that creeps up his cheeks as a result.

It’s a good day at the Magnus Institute. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hehehe thanks for reading!  
> Kudos are appreciated but comments make me want to write more!  
> Come yell with me about how Jonny should accept that TMA is a workplace comedy and nothing more


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